


It's Only Cold for Me

by KannaOphelia



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crowley Was Not Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Crowley's Fall (Good Omens), Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Inspired by Art, It's not that bad when you get used to it, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-11-03 21:11:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20670953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KannaOphelia/pseuds/KannaOphelia
Summary: Crowley drags Aziraphale to a preview exhibition at Sotheby's to uncover the true reason for his Fall.*****"Shut up. No. No, that's not the point. It's all idealised anyway. I mean, it's not like the artist saw me nude, is it?""I don't know, is it?" Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. "We weren't speaking then.""I was asleep! Just because we'd had a bit of a tiff didn't mean I'd run off to the first Frenchman with a great beard that I--anyway. I knew Alexandre a bit, and he must have obsessed over me until in his elderly days he had a vision of me and how I Fell. It's remarkably accurate.""I'm not sure what I'm supposed to take from this. You Fell because you were sulking? That's hardly a revelation, dearest."





	It's Only Cold for Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [romana03](https://archiveofourown.org/users/romana03/gifts).

An angel and a demon strolled arm and arm through Sotheby's preview exhibition. 

"Told you it was me." Crowley was torn between smug and aggrieved.  
  
  
  
  


Aziraphale stared assessingly at the canvas. "You poor dear. You looked so--healthy. Did they starve you in Hell?"

"Shut up. No. No, that's not the point. It's all idealised anyway. I mean, it's not like the artist saw me nude, is it?"

"I don't know, is it?" Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. "We weren't speaking then."

"I was asleep! Just because we'd had a bit of a tiff didn't mean I'd run off to the first Frenchman with a great beard that I--anyway. I knew Alexandre a bit, and he must have obsessed over me until in his elderly days he had a vision of me and how I Fell. It's remarkably accurate." 

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to take from this. You Fell because you were sulking? That's hardly a revelation, dearest."

"Look," sighed Crowley. "See all the angels up there in their heavenly robes, cuddled up on clouds together? And there's me, down on my rock."

"You were lonely?" A softer expression now, a gentle hand on his arm. "Oh, my dear, I know you didn't fit in. If I'd known you then, perhaps..."

Crowley looked plaintively at him over his glasses. "I was _cold_. You know how I hate the cold."

"_What?_"

"You remember how freezing Heaven gets, way up there! Lucifer and Belial were all look, babe, join us and we'll give you some really sexy clothes. Black. Think how nicely they'll go with your hair. And we'll take you somewhere _really warm_." He reflected a minute. "Gits."

Aziraphale eyed him warily as he was steered along the gallery. Crowley was probably joking. Almost definitely joking. But he was scowling at the painting as if it could bite him, and the line of his shoulders was resentful.

"Do you want me to bid on the painting or not?" Aziraphale asked at last.

"Yeah. Get it. It will go with this one of you forgetting that human toddlers don't have wings and trying to teach one to fly that I'm going to buy. You always were absent-minded."  
  
  
  
  
Crowley glared at the painting. "_You_ got clothes. I mean, half your chest is hanging out and your legs were bare, but at least you got clothes. Just me and the sodding baby left to freeze to death with our tackle hanging out. I always knew the Almighty picked favourites." He cheered up suddenly. "Your legs look good, though. So, how long did it take you before you realised the kid was never going to swoop through the clouds?"  
  
"It may have taken a small miracle," muttered Aziraphale, blushing.

"Oh, no. Angel, what did you do?"

"Well, it was early days yet. Hadn't been many human babies. And there was no reason he shouldn't have wings, _we_ do." he sighed. "I got a very reproving note and had to do double blessings for a while to make up for it. They were very pretty butterfly wings, as I recall."

"You are a terrible angel," Crowley said, kissing his cheek.

"You're a terrible demon." Aziraphale snuggled closer.

The upcoming auction would be a rather expensive day, he reflected, but it might be worth it. And he would make sure to increase the heating in the bookshop.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Inspired by the classic The Toast post, [Men In Western Art Who Are So Nude It Makes Them Furious](http://the-toast.net/2016/03/02/men-in-western-art-who-are-so-nude-it-makes-them-furious/)
> 
> 2) Paintings are _The Fallen Angel_ by Alexandre Cabanel, 1868, and The Guardian Angel by Marcantonio Franceschini, 1716.  
  
3) Title is from the Epik High ft Lee Hi song [Cold,](https://youtu.be/Ckqhs2AvCtQ4) which is either inappropriately or brilliantly angsty for this fluff depending on how you look at it.
> 
> 4) Posting this drabble means ruining my perfect 69 works on AO3. Hope it was worth it.


End file.
